Grand Canyon Day 2

Dear Blog

 

Day Two Grand Canyon Trip

 

In the morning, we head out to Williams — about 35 miles on I‑40. It’s an easy, scenic drive with ponderosa pines and big open skies. I-40  skips the real Route 66 and Bellemont, where Easy Rider fans stop for a photo op of the Pine Breeze Inn — the spot where Wyatt and Billy get hit with the “NO VACANCY” sign.

Jay and I aren’t huge Easy Rider movie buffs so, like the movie, we just keep rolling on our own terms.

 

Williams, Arizona may be best known as the gateway to the Grand Canyon, but it also boasts a wonderfully preserved stretch of Route 66 — six blocks lined with diners, saloons, motor lodges, quirky shops, small museums with pure 1950s charm. After checking into the Grand Canyon Hotel for our two‑night stay, we headed out for a relaxed stroll. No ghost hunts this time; just soaking in the Americana and the shops that give this town its own unmistakable character. And yes, they’re stocked with all the classics: kitschy Route 66 souvenirs, southwest crafts, western gear, and vintage odds and ends people tossed decades ago but now absolutely need for their collections.

 

We’re not big souvenir people, maybe we’ll grab a T‑shirt now and then. One, it proves to our friends we actually went somewhere and two, sometimes we just need something clean to wear before laundry day becomes real. Still, wandering through the shops is fun. Call it browsing, but really, it’s a mini sensory adventure: textures, colors, and all the novelty goods that proudly show off a town’s personality.

 

Some of these little shops are packed full of oddball, quirky stuff that make Williams… well, Williams. You’ll even find bison jerky proudly bragging that it’s “sweeter and a bit firmer” than Link’s beef jerky, as if that difference is about to convince you to buy a whole bag. Then you drift into the gem shops, where “special” stones—fluorite, calcite, —light up under a black light if you happen to own a black light.. And of course, there are the plaster mountain‑lion, elk, and black‑bear footprints—perfect for giving your porch a reminder that we’re not the only ones using the porch. And if you have a sweet tooth, Williams sweets are their own adventure: jalapeño or sassafras taffy and prickly‑pear everything jelly, syrup, candy, lemonade and truffles. Prickly pear comes from a cactus fruit and is said to taste like watermelon.

 

And tucked among all that, you’ll find the railroad memorabilia—spikes, replica tickets, bits of metal art. This makes me think of my older brother, who used to pay me and my brother Mike a nickel for every stray piece of metal we found while walking the train tracks in south Sacramento. We’d come back with pockets full of random treasures that had rattled loose from passing trains. He was both a railroad engineer and an artist, so those scraps didn’t stay scraps for long, they became metal wall art. I still remember one piece making its way into an art gallery in Oak Park, in Sacramento glowing under the lights like it had always been meant for a wall instead of a rail yard.

 

Jay loved Pete’s Gas Station Museum. The place began as an old Texaco station, and stepping inside sent him straight back to the days when he always had grease on his hands and an old Ford sitting in the driveway. He and his buddies spent whole afternoons swapping engines, wrestling with transmissions, and learning everything by trial and error — because that’s just what kids did then. Cars meant freedom, pride, and growing up. Walking into Pete’s, surrounded by classic mid‑century cars, vintage pumps, old oil cans, and the same tools he once used, stirred up some of his favorite memories.

 

That evening we had several recommended restaurants, but we ended up choosing Rod’s Steak House, the one I’d read about in the AAA magazine. They’ve been serving since 1946, which felt like a reasonable enough credential to go on. Their motto, “pull up a chair and dig in,” matched the place: straightforward, no frills. A solid spot for a Rib Eye, and their specialty cocktail, the Cactus Fires—a jalapeño‑infused pineapple margarita— The sweet–heat contrast makes it a star.

 

After dark, Williams takes on its neon look. Red, blue, and green signs switch on along Route 66, casting steady light across the street. There’s a faint buzzing from the old tubes, not loud, just constant. It gives the town a kind of low-level background hum that fits the place.

 

Tomorrow is the big event: the train ride from Williams to the Grand Canyon. Yippee‑I‑A indeed.

 

Grand Canyon

Dear Blog

 

Day One - Our Grand Canyon Trip

 

After hitting 125 countries, we finally decided to check out one of the world’s wonders that’s been sitting ridiculously close to home this whole time — the Grand Canyon. We’ve flown over it countless times, but this is our first time actually stopping to admire it like responsible adults. And before you ask: no, we are not riding mules. People call it a “once‑in‑a‑lifetime experience,” but at our age, we prefer experiences that don’t involve handing our lives over to a moody, long‑eared animal. Yes, I know mules are basically geniuses compared to horses, but if Jay didn’t enjoy riding a horse in Africa — on flat ground — I’m pretty sure a vertical drop on a mule isn’t going to be his thing. So we’re taking the train. Smooth. Scenic.

 

The trip kicked off with a Reno–Phoenix flight and a quick connection to Flagstaff. We picked up a rental car and were at our downtown hotel in about ten minutes — right on old Route 66. That whole stretch still feels frozen in time, with glowing neon motel signs, classic diners, and a dusty Old West vibe that refuses to fade.

And get this: Route 66 turns 100 this year. I had no idea until I actually opened our AAA magazine instead of tossing it. The cover was all about the centennial — 100 years of Route 66 “Get Your Kicks on the Mother Road.”

 

Flagstaff feels like a town with two personalities. On one hand, it’s surrounded by stunning scenery — the Grand Canyon and Sedona are practically neighbors — and at 7,000 feet, the elevation shapes everything. Summers stay mild, winters are long and snowy, and the thin air plus intense sun take some getting used to.

But the other side of Flagstaff is less romantic. The cost of living is high, and everyday expenses stack up fast. Its proximity to world‑famous landscapes brings a steady stream of tourists, especially hikers and climbers. And as someone who battled allergies in both Sacramento and San Diego, I can confirm Flagstaff’s tree pollen is no joke. Good thing I packed the Allerest.

 

After settling into our hotel, we committed to the two things to do in Flagstaff we’d already been thinking about back home: walking the historic Route 66 corridor downtown and weaving that walk into a search for Flagstaff’s haunted past. This city is considered one of the most haunted in America, shaped by frontier violence, railroad disasters, and tragedies that left their mark on buildings still standing. Jay and I are drawn to places with that eerie edge. Years ago, we took a Jack the Ripper tour in London and loved the mix of history and darkness. Flagstaff isn’t as brutal as Whitechapel on London East end, but its stories come from real frontier-era heartbreak. Instead of foggy gas‑lit alleys, you get old brick hotels, shadowy back lanes off Route 66, and creaking 1900s architecture. Different setting, but same thrill of walking through history when the sun goes down.

 

Our walk’s standout moments were the hauntings at the Hotel Monte Vista. In Room 220, guests report cold hands grabbing their ankles and the smell of raw meat — tied to a man who once hung meat from the chandelier. Room 305 has a rocking chair that moves on its own every day. And many guests hear the Phantom Bellboy cheerfully announcing “room service” to an empty hallway. At the Weatherford Hotel, we learned about the newlyweds murdered on their wedding night. People staying in that room still hear screams, footsteps, and heavy furniture dragging.

 

After all that, we needed a drink, so we circled back to the Monte Vista lounge — another hotspot for ghost stories. The Phantom Bartender is known for whispering greetings and knocking glasses over. We didn’t witness anything, but the bartender told us her firsthand accounts of being haunted.

 

Well enough excitement for one day sweet dreams to all and to all a good night. Tomorrow we drive to Williams.

 

 

 

 

Homeward

Dear Blog

 

Bahamas Day 12 April 29^th At Sea

 

This is our final day at sea—and the last night of the cruises. Usually, in our experience, the ship marks the occasion with a big farewell celebration in the Theatre. The captain, the officers, and many of the staff take the stage to bid the guests farewell. This is where the crew members who usually work behind the scenes—cabin attendants, bartenders, cooks—finally get their moment in the spotlight. But MSC doesn’t do that.

 

MSC throws a few themed party nights — the White Hot Party, Italian Night which basically is a meal where they serve all the Italian comfort foods and 80’s night. Of course, the Gala night is a night to meet the captain and his officers. On our Gala night we never actually saw the Captain. In fact, we have only heard him a couple of times giving weather updates and nautical reports. I’m pretty sure no one understood — or cared — because of the heavy accent and the technical jargon, it felt like he was mostly reminding everyone that he knows what he’s doing.

 

On our last cruise on the NCL Bliss, we went to their captain’s party, but we never saw the captain, either.  I did, however, shake hands with the Food and Beverage Manager because I felt people were avoiding him, one, because he is hard to understand and two, I thought some may have experienced after effects of eating his Fish Curry.  That was the party I remember Jay and I being cornered with the Cruise Next Manager. The guy was easy to talk to, but then again, charming strangers is literally his full‑time job. The man could sell ice to a polar bear.

 

Tonight MSC theme night is “Celebrate the 80’s”. We didn’t go because somehow a party starting at 10:00 p.m. doesn’t work with our age or mindset, and tomorrow is a big travel day. Honestly, the only thing I truly remember about the 80’s is that it was a very long time ago. I’m not sure what we’re celebrating at this point. It was the decade of hair teased to the size of a basketball, shoulder pads that could double as flotation devices, everyone trying to moonwalk, and Cyndi Lauper reminding us that “girls just want to have fun” — as if that was some ground-breaking revelation.

 

It’s been a good cruise. Our first time on MSC, and after eight other cruise lines, I can confirm: this one has its own… personality. Every ship has its highs and lows. Some things go great; some things go completely off the rails. Like, how does an Italian ship go eleven nights without serving lasagna? How does a Caesar salad arrive looking like it survived a dressing monsoon? And who decided last night’s breadstick dipped in frosting and sprinkles qualified as dessert? And then there’s the Yacht Club — the fancy ‘you’re‑paying‑for‑the-privilege’ area — with zero umbrellas on the pool deck. Meanwhile, we’ve been gifted two bottles of vodka and three bottles of champagne in the room… which, combined, probably cost more than one umbrella. It’s the Bahamas. It’s sunny. It’s hot. This isn’t complicated.

 

But does any of that actually ruin a cruise? Nah, If it did, you’d be miserable everywhere — ocean or not. Nothing’s perfect. A vacation is supposed to be a break from real life — and this one was.

 

But I really would’ve liked some lasagna.

 

I write these stories because they help me stay connected to our experience — they make me pay attention to what’s happening around me, to the people, and to my own reactions and feelings.

 

Thank you for tuning in, reading along, and sharing your comments.

Home stretch

Greetings Blog

 

Bahamas Day 11 April 28^th Ocean Cay

 

 

We’re back at Ocean Cay today, and believe it or not, this island used to be a giant industrial sand mine. It wasn’t natural at all — it was built in the 1960s so companies could dig up aragonite, a special sand used for cement, farming, and glass. When cheaper materials like limestone and synthetic calcium carbonate became available, the mining stopped. The island was abandoned and left covered in rusty machines, oil drums, and debris. It looked nothing like a topical island.

 

MSC took over this island and completely transformed it. They hauled away hundreds of tons of old machinery and debris, rebuilt every beach, planted thousands of trees, and turned the whole place into a protected marine reserve. Today it looks like paradise — but it definitely didn’t start that way.

 

I suspect most of our fellow passengers don’t know this or don’t care about any of that. They just want to sink into the sand with a drink in hand, living their best “give me a beer and a beach chair” life. But then there are the curious ones — the people who love a good story. And even the folks who didn’t care at first usually perk up when they hear this:” MSC removed more than 500 tons of industrial waste to restore this island. “Suddenly, Ocean Cay isn’t just beautiful. It’s a comeback story. And we all love those — the reminder that you can mess up, lose everything, hit bottom, and still rise again.

 

We spent the day on the private Yacht Club–only beach, with access to the Ocean House restaurant, a private bar, and even butler service right to our loungers in the sand. Lying there on the soft beach, admiring the turquoise water and soaking up the sun, it genuinely felt like heaven on earth.

 

The ship stays at Ocean Cay almost until midnight, giving guests plenty of time to watch the sunset and take in the nighttime laser show that lights up the sky behind the lighthouse. But since it was Jay’s birthday — Happy 85 — we decided to head back to the ship for a champagne toast, dinner, and a relaxed celebration.

 

Honestly, a cruise is one of the easiest ways to celebrate someone’s birthday. No fuss, no planning, no stress — just show up and enjoy. And the sunset views from the ship were every bit as beautiful, the perfect ending to a perfect day.

 

We didn’t really tell anyone it was his birthday, mostly because the night before we watched the staff surround a guest’s table singing Happy Birthday like it was the grand finale of the cruise. Jay, like some of you, wants absolutely nothing to do with that kind of spotlight. But of course, the crew knew — they always do — and tonight at dessert they appeared with a birthday cake anyway. Then eight staff members gathered around, singing completely out of key, and we just sat there stunned, laughing. Everyone around us applauded, and honestly… it was such a tender gesture for someone celebrating his 85th.

 

And thank you for all the birthday messages — those are the ones he truly loves, and they made this birthday feel something beautifully special.

Tomorrow is a sea day and our last cruise day.

Nassau

Dear Blog

 

Bahamas Day 10 April 27^th Nassau

 

Yes, we’re back in Nassau. Today we decided to head to a beach club called Margaritaville. We chose this one because it’s an easy walk from the ship, which means we can come and go as we please without dealing with an organized bus excursion, taxis, traffic, or any fussy arrangements. It’s simple, flexible, and exactly the kind of day we wanted.

 

Beach clubs are everywhere these days, and they’re popular for a reason. They bundle everything — food, drinks, music, loungers, shade, and service — into one easy, polished experience. No hauling towels, no hunting for a spot in the sand, no figuring out logistics. It’s simply “beach time.” Sure, beach clubs cost money, but so does going to a public beach once you start renting loungers, umbrellas, and everything else. And on public beaches, you’re also at the mercy of the hawkers — the moment you lie down and start drifting toward a nap, they appear. “You buy from me? You buy from me?” They’re constantly trying to sell you hats, sunglasses, T‑shirts, beaded necklaces, fruit, drinks, or offering to braid your hair or give you a quick beach massage. It’s part of the charm… until it isn’t.

At Margaritaville, there were several day‑pass options, but we went with the cheapest one because the pricier packages included lunch and unlimited drinks — and honestly, do we really need more food or alcohol at this point? So, we chose the budget option which got us a lounger, an umbrella, and a margarita. But because we paid for the beach option, we couldn’t use the pool and go floating down their lazy river.

 

A lazy river is basically a gentle, winding waterway pool that carries you along on a soft current while you float in an inner tube. It’s calm and unhurried — like drifting down a warm, shallow stream in paradise without having to paddle, plan, or think about anything at all. The first time I saw a lazy river was in Puerto Plata, right at the port entrance in the middle of all the chaos — tourists shopping, tourists drinking, tourists wandering around with no idea where they were going — there they were. People floating in a man‑made pool that looked like a gently moving stream. Some were wedged awkwardly into their inner tubes, others drifting by with a beer in hand and sunglasses on.

 

My first thought was, do they have any idea how ridiculous they look? But as I watched them glide past, I couldn’t ignore the serene, totally carefree expressions on their faces. They looked like they had slipped out of the real world for a moment, and honestly, I’ve never forgotten that look.

Jay and I are theater fans, but magic shows aren’t our style. Tonight’s show is Evolution of Magic, performed by Adam Milner. Magicians do sleight‑of‑hand; illusionists rely on technology and “perfected” tricks — basically the difference between quick fingers and expensive equipment. Either way, I’m not a fan of being tricked, fooled, bamboozled, hoodwinked, or otherwise suckered — so we’ll be skipping the show.

 

The most famous magician is David Copperfield, known for making things like jet planes disappear. He has performed at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas for 25 years, and his last show will be two days from now on April 30th of this year. The most famous illusionist is Houdini, whose whole career was escaping from boxes, tanks, chains, and anything else people could lock him inside. He died of a ruptured appendix on Halloween in 1926, but some people still like to pretend he’s alive at 150 years of age— which honestly would be his greatest trick. On some MSC ships they feature a “A House of Houdini” show that is music, singing, acrobatics and sleight of hand in tribute to the great Houdini. Now that’s a show I would like to see.

 

When we got back on the ship we went up to the Yacht Club pool deck. Jay napped and I watched the seagulls. It reminded me of a line from the 1971 movie, Harold and Maude when Maude and Harold are watching the seagulls. Maude says to Harold “Dreyfuss once wrote from Devils Island that he could see the most glorious birds. Many years later he realized they had only been seagulls. For me they will always be glorious birds.” There is something to be said finding beauty in the ordinary.

 

Tomorrow we will be at Ocean Cay again and it’s Jay’s 85 birthday!

 

 

Space Center

Dear Blog

 

Bahamas Day 9 April 26^th Port Canaveral

 

Today we headed out to tour the Kennedy Space Center. I wasn’t entirely sure how excited I’d be. I’m not really a space buff, but even I know that Kennedy Space Center is NASA’s main launch site, not Texas or California. I knew Jay would be in his element and really enjoy the tour. Before joining the Fire Department, he worked at General Dynamics in San Diego on the Atlas booster. The Atlas booster is a powerful rocket stage originally built in the late 1950s, (Yeah, Jay had to explain that to me) He still remembers the day Scott Carpenter and John Glenn stopped by to see the preparations. In 1962 the Atlas booster launched John Glenn into orbit on the Friendship 7 mission.

 

When I was growing up in the sixties, everyone knew the astronauts’ names just as easily as we knew the ball players or movie stars. Armstrong, Glenn, Lovell, Shepard—they were true household names. We’d gather around the old black‑and‑white TV to watch the liftoffs, and it felt like the whole country paused for those moments. These days, people just don’t follow the space program the way they once did.

 

Life moves faster now, and our attention is splintered across countless distractions—from nonstop digital entertainment to the constant churn of news—making it harder for something like space exploration to command the same collective excitement it once did. Recent lunar missions like Artemis II have certainly boosted public interest, but they still don’t seem to match the excitement of the Apollo era.

 

I guess my most personal connection to the space heroes came from my brother Jay, who somehow ended up picking up John Glenn from the old Sacramento airport. The funny part is that he was only working a summer job at the California State Fair in the Art and Marketing Department. He was supposed to be designing posters and hauling display boards—not chauffeuring one of the nation’s most famous astronauts. But the day when Glenn arrived, every official or important person seemed to have vanished into thin air. Someone looked around, saw my brother standing there in his suit, and said, “You—go get Glenn.” And off he went. We even have a picture of him in a convertible, casually driving one of America’s most iconic astronauts around as if it were just another Tuesday.

 

I remember the big moments in space—like watching Neil Armstrong take that first step for mankind. I saw that monumental moment while I was cleaning a hotel room during my chambermaid days in Tahoe City. Just minutes later, I took a “giant step” of my own on a staircase, slipped with my mop bucket, and ended up in the Truckee emergency room to make sure nothing was broken.

 

Visiting the space center stirred up a whole pile of old memories—way more than I ever expected. And to my surprise, I absolutely loved the tour. After all, this is the place where real rockets blasted off, real astronauts trained, and real missions rewrite everything we thought we knew about the universe.

 

It was a good day, even though every exhibit was packed with tourists and it felt like all we did was wait — and I really hate waiting. I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did. But John F. Kennedy said it best in 1962: “We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do other things… not because they are easy, but because they are hard.”

 

The space center reminded me how far people can go when they dream big. Then, being back on the cruise ship reminded me how important it is to slow down, enjoy where you are, and appreciate the simple moments. Somehow the two experiences fit together perfectly — one lifting my eyes to the sky, the other bringing me gently back to earth.

 

We’re on a back‑to‑back cruise, which means a whole wave of new passengers just boarded for their first four‑day trip. God help us. At least our loud neighbors from the last leg are gone.

 

Ocean Cay

Hello Blog

 

Bahamas Day 8 April 25^th Ocean Cay

 

Today we’re visiting Ocean Cay, a small man‑made island in the Bahamas that has been transformed into MSC Cruises’ private marine reserve. It’s known for its powdery white‑sand beaches and stunning turquoise water. The island offers more than 75 acres of beaches and natural spaces, with calm, shallow areas perfect for swimming. There’s a long list of activities to enjoy—snorkeling, paddleboarding, kayaking, and guided nature walks. You’ll also find beach bars, dining options, and scenic walking trails to explore. This place is beautiful and truly was the best day of our cruise so far.

 

For years, cruises stopped at crowded ports and busy city centers, which often meant long lines and a day that didn’t feel very relaxing. Private islands changed that. They offer open beaches, a controlled environment, and a truly worry‑free day ashore. Cruise lines invest in them because they can manage the entire experience, avoid dock fees, and keep more guests spending onboard instead of losing it to local shops or outside tours. Even though these islands cost a lot to build, they end up being far more profitable. And the truth is, guests enjoy them too—they’re quieter, less crowded, more private, and built for comfort and relaxation.

 

Private islands take away some of that cultural interaction you get from visiting local towns and meeting people. But let’s be real—at a lot of ports, like Costa Maya, you’re not getting much authentic culture anyway. Even if you step off the ship, the whole area is built for tourists. Its shops, bars, and photo ops, not a true look at local life. So, while private islands cut out cultural experiences, many ports weren’t offering much of that to begin with.

 

Cruises are more of a vacation than a true travel experience. You’re usually not in one place long enough to dive into a new culture or spend real time with local people. It’s fun, relaxing, and easy—but it’s not the same as exploring a country on your own and really getting to know it. That said, cruises are still incredibly valuable because they give you a quick glimpse of a place—its scenery, its vibe, its highlights. Sometimes that little taste is exactly what inspires people to come back later for a longer, deeper visit as we have done in the past.

 

One of my favorite examples of the difference between travel and vacation comes from the movie City Slickers. Billy Crystal signs up for what he thinks will be a fun, relaxing cowboy getaway—only to discover it’s actually real ranch work. There’s that unforgettable moment where he’s being dragged across the dirt by a runaway cow, clinging to the rope and yelling, “I AM ON VACATION!”

It’s the perfect metaphor. We all love the idea of being adventurous, worldly travelers, but the truth is many of us just want a break—a simple vacation, not a life‑changing cattle drive.

 

A similar idea shows up in My Life in Ruins. The main character is a tour guide in Greece who is deeply passionate about Greek history. She wants her passengers to experience the richness of the culture, the stories, the meaning behind the Acropolis. But her tourists have different expectations. They’re in Greece, yes, but they’re looking for the simple joys of being away from home—an ice cream, a stupid fun souvenir, a moment to relax rather than another detailed lecture.

It’s a gentle reminder that not everyone seeks deep cultural immersion. Sometimes people just want a kitschy cheesy souvenir, a sweet treat, or a T‑shirt to take home—because, after all, they’re on vacation.

 

Together, these two films highlight an important truth: we love the idea of being bold travelers, but often what we really need is a break. Travel asks something of us. Vacation gives something back. On this trip Jay and I are on vacation.

 

Tomorrow we will take a tour of Cape Canaveral Kennedy Space Center.